The Labyrinth
by Lyra Abbey
Summary: Collab with Rebeca-rikku. Maximum Ride and her gang were not the only escaped experiments. There were more. Now, two runaways, two dreamers, chase the ghosts through the labyrinth, all in the spirit of waking up. War is about to begin.


Prologue.

June 15, 2015

21:00 hours.

"Which file was it that you said?" the man behind the glowing computer screen asked, peering upwards at the redheaded woman in front of him.

"Subject sixteen and seventeen," she repeated, a thick layer of impatience dripping from her tone as she crossed her arms and tapped her fingers against her arm. "I really only have a few hours, and from what I understand, these files are documents starting from a subject's birth to the present time, so can I please see it _now_?"

"I have to verify the information, ma'am," the man answered, rolling his eyes and not noticing how the woman had growled lowly, holding back the urge to snap at him. Her eyes scanned the door behind him as he typed on the computer her information, running her ID through the scanner and working slowly. Finally a low _ping_ alerted her that she was clear, and without even turning to the man again, the woman stepped around him, heading towards the door.

She placed her hand over the handle, waiting for the small red light to turn green. When it did, the forty year old woman stepped inside, the door behind her closing and locking as she began surveying around the room. All it had was a computer, nothing more and nothing less. She sat in front of it, adjusting the jacket over her shoulder before searching for the subjects' files.

It did not take long for her to find the location of said files; a confirmation window popped up just a second after she'd typed it and opened them, side by side. The redhead fiddled through her pockets before pulling out a small, wrinkled piece of paper and smoothing it down against the table. She turned to the keyboard again.

**Access File for Subject 16-I.**

Password: *********

Access Code: 16081

Verify Changes in Documents – Second Password: _[Skip]_

_Loading Data..._

**Welcome**

_Read-Only File._

Subject E8-16-I2

Project Codename: Dollface

Goal: Infiltrator and interrogator prototypes that excel above the rest, childlike and trusting against other experiments.

Basic Information.

Real Name: Esther Paine

Known Alias(es): Dream.

D.O.B [dd-mm-yyyy]: 07-03-1998

Current Age: 17

Height: 6'1 (185.43 cm)

Weight: 158 lbs (71.66 kg)

Hair: Dirty Blonde

Eyes: Green

Nationality: British-American.

Skin: White.

Blood relations: [ERROR - DATA CORRUPTED]

Known Abilities: Entering a person's unconscious while REM and stage 4 of non-REM sleep is active. Enhanced sight used to read micro-expressions and body language.

Current status: ESCAPED. Code seven. Third attempt – successful.

Notes: Subject has three long scars across her face, diagonally, done to her when she was twelve years old. Frontal lobotomy. Unstable.

TIMELINE: Y – N.

The redhead sighed, rolling her eyes. _Again_. This had indeed gotten ridiculous. The way things were going, project Dollface might as well had been terminated. But no one at Itex terminated projects unless the subjects died. It was always a pathetic attempt of "we have limited resources, we must finish this to the end." Though the woman was tempted to read through this experiment's story, she knew enough already. The girl had met among the most dangerous, and the already forgotten, experiments on her travels. Though the girl had met people that had impacted Itex and its facilities, she herself hadn't done anything.

Until a month ago.

The redheaded woman minimized the window and began looking for the second file. It did not take long.

**Access File for Subject 17-S1.**

Password: *******

Access Code: 17023

Verify Changes in Documents – Second Password: _[Skip]_

_Loading Data..._

**Welcome**

_Read-Only File._

Subject M4-17-S1

Project Codename: Soulsearcher.

Goal: Personalize evidence and known information of subjects of a room in a manner that appears to look as "medium-ship." Meaning, subjects are able to collect information from room or body language of fallen subjects and create representations of them to uncover clues or evidence of past events.

The redheaded woman frowned. What? Who had even written that bloody description? It barely made any sense.

She sighed and kept reading.

Basic Information.

Real Name: Mackenzie Green

Known Alias(es): Spirit.

D.O.B [dd-mm-yyyy]: 25-12-1997

Current Age: 16

Height: 5'5 (165 cm)

Weight: 130 lb (58.96 kg)

Hair: Dark-brown.

Eyes: Hazel.

Nationality: American.

Skin: White.

Blood relations: None.

Known Abilities: Personification of objects, evidence, or clues set up upon a property that allow her to see "Them". What subject misleadingly described as "connecting with the souls of the dead." Enhanced vision.

Current status: ESCAPED. Code eleven. Second attempt – successful.

NOTES: Freckles upon her face, minor scars over her body.

TIMELINE: Y – N

The woman sighed, leaning her chin against her palm and reading through the files. Both subjects had different back stories, and both had been aided in their initial escapes. By the time the two had met each other, subject 16 being twelve and subject 17 had been eleven, a pack of experiments had taken them to a "safe place" shortly before a battle ensued. Several of their own guards and successful subjects had met these experiments, but 16 and 17 had not completely stood out from the bunch.

What had changed in those years? Why, after having focused on the troublemakers, the dangerous, the sadistic runaways, had the ones that had simply tagged along become..._this?_

Though the woman was contemplating just leaving the room, curiosity was getting the best of her. Who said she couldn't attempt to uncover this a bit more? The timelines had not been updated—not as far as she knew at least—and any information about their current location was sure to have arrived view the network. As she hooked a strand of her straight red hair on one finger, the redhead minimized the files and logged into the administrator's email. After several passwords, security codes and questions, she was granted access, and there were no new emails-

Except one from just an hour ago.

"Interesting," she purred as she clicked on it.

**To:**

**From: [corrupted email - database error]**

**Subject: Subjects sixteen and seventeen – IMPORTANT.**

**Underestimated us one more time.**

**You really shouldn't have let them done that. You really shouldn't have sent them.**

"What the-?" the woman mumbled, blinking and leaning forward as her eyes scanned the email.  
><strong><br>****Five of them. Big, angry, berserk. Masks that cover away their selves. We've been facing and fighting them since we were ten or so. At least seven years since all of this started. Our life, on those cells, behind those bars, waiting for the day that the torture would show we were doing it all for the greater good. We found this address on them. There was more than one password, but we got through. You must remember what it was that we took last time. We fought them. They hurt us—but it's not the first time, and it isn't the last.**

"Sixteen and Seventeen?" the redhead blurted out, blinking as she realized this email had been sent not long ago. Both of them...they were alive and well. The last operation had failed. _Big fucking surprise,_ the redhead thought as she kept reading.

**We've stopped running. We've finished chasing. It's time to understand. Neither me nor her know where this is going. No one does. In the end, it depends on the files, on what was brought with us, or where this story takes us. Awakening is more difficult than I ever thought. How could I have ever speculated opening my eyes would have turned out this way?**

There she was again, rambling on. The redheaded woman wanted to feel annoyed at this, but she couldn't make herself do so. Of course they would have been able to do that, but after the information that had been taken by the two of them, there was no telling what _else_ they could do.

**With this game of cat and mouse over, I need you to understand one thing. We will not make this public, we will not gather an army, none of that will occur now—although I have no promises for the future. That is something I will never be able to predict.**

**But if you want war (and rest assure that I write this words without hint of dishonesty) we**_**will**_**give you war.**

The redheaded woman stared at the email, blinking blankly, the coldness of the room becoming more apparent as the silence filled her and she read and reread the last words of the email.

And she smiled.

"How sweet."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And thus it begins! :P Credit to the prologue goes all to Dar-

Lol-

REBECA. It goes to Rebeca.

Constructive criticism is beyond welcome. I dislike flames, but if you hate it so much, by all means, insult me in ridiculous ways. It'll probably just wash off. But I'm always up for advice. . .well, this is Dar-Rebeca's, but you know what I mean.


End file.
